iGoToAConcert
by Coffee Noodles
Summary: In which the trio goes to a Cuttlefish concert, and one of Sam's lies becomes a reality. SEDDIE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I've been reading fanfiction for ages and decided to try my hand at it. It's my first, please tell me what you think! So anyways, here it goes.

**iGoToAConcert**

Chapter 1

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, and Carly and I were sitting on her couch, watching Girly Cow and sipping experimental rhubarb pie smoothies (my recipe). They tasted like heaven itself. Oh, sweet, sweet summer vacation.

"Sam, Carly, you'll never guess!" Freddie bounded through the door of Carly's apartment.

"You're moving out of your crib and into a big boy bed?" Ha. She shoots, she scores.

Freddie gave me that one 'not-amused' face of his. "Ha, ha. Mature, Sam. "

I grinned at him. Cute little dork.

"Anyways, if you care to – "

"Taste this smoothie," I handed him my tall glass. He looked at it suspiciously.

"I washed my hands, and I didn't put anything funny in there."

Cautiously, he took a sip, then his face lit up a little.

"Wow," he said after a moment. "That's amazing! What's in it?"

"Pulverized rhubarb pie, cranberry juice, applesauce, little of this, little of that, lots of looooove," I recited. "It rocks, right?"

"Mmhmm…" he slurped at my smoothie. "I can totally taste the love," he laughed.

"Hey, dork, you can't have all of it!" I lunged at him and tried to pry the smoothie from his fingers. He held it easily out of my reach. When did he get so tall? Darn puberty.

"You know what?" He said, smirking at my vain attempts to steal back my drink, "This is better than amazing. It's…_nice._"

He emphasized the word. My throat contracted as I caught his drift, and I felt my ears burn. He hadn't mentioned that since….

_Get a hold of yourself, Puckett, _I thought frantically. He wasn't going to get away with that.

I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I totally _hate_ it, so that's probably why." I made a face and hoped it came out as confident and conspiratorial. Freddie smirked.

"Okay, what the hell?" asked Carly from the couch. I'd kinda forgotten about her. I looked at myself. My hand was resting on Freddie's chest as he held the rhubarb smoothie over my head. Our faces were suspiciously close together.

Well this must look strange.

I stepped back, clearing my throat.

Carly started in, "What are you two—"

"Nothing."

"Nevermind."

"Back to the thing…" Freddie whipped something out of his pocket with supreme dork dramatic-ness. "I have…three tickets to the Cuttlefish Concert on the beach this Saturday!"

Carly and I were silent for a moment, processing it, and then we simultaneously squealed like a couple of fangirls. Freddie looked very pleased with himself.

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**A/N: **So there it is. Kinda short, I know. Chapter 2 will be up soon. Please R&R :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews! I forgot to note in the last chapter that this is in Sam's POV, though you have probably figured that out by now. I also forgot a disclaimer, so here it goes:

**Disclaimer: **I hereby disclaim. Don't own iCarly or anything else.

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"And that, kids, is why you should never fork the pope's lawn!"

"Thanks for that enlightening video from Froggers812!" I pressed the applause button on my remote.

"That's all we have for today, but log on next week-"

"Wait, Carly! The bet!"

"No, not that..."

"It'll be funny! Fredward, switch to the B-cam and get your butt over here." Freddie stepped reluctantly in front of the camera.

"Freddie, our tech-producer, recently made a bet with me," I explained. "He thought he could recite all the elements on the Periodic Table faster than I could eat a 1-gallon bucket full of buffalo wings. He lost that bet." (_Awww..._said the virtual audience in my remote) "What he has to do is...well, see for yourself. Bring on the helium, Carls!"

I handed the boy a purple ukulele as Carly disapprovingly let him inhale a long breath of helium.

"Right." said Freddie, his voice high and squeaky, and reminding us inescapably of FRED. He strummed the strings of the ukulele randomly, then proceeded to sing - also randomly.

"Saaaam. She has nice teeeeeth. She can eeeat loooots of wiiiings. HELIUM!" He refilled on helium as his voice threatened to return to its normal pitch. "Caaarlyyy, please make it stooooop."

"Hey, you made the bet, buddy," she said solemnly from off the camera.

"Saam should be crowned supreeeeeme ruler of the uuuuuniverse! Aaaaaamen!" He ended the 'song' like a hymn, and strummed the ukulele one last time. "Thanks, everyone. Thank you, don't do drugs, stay in school and don't make bets with Sam. It never ends well."

"And we're clear! Good show, _girls_." I said his line, shutting off the cameras and the internet feed. "I do love to hear you singing my praises, Fredwina." Freddie tried to glare at me, but he was laughing, and the effect was lost. We two collapsed on the bean bags in cheerful exhaustion, but Carly still looked annoyed.

"What's the matter, Carly?"

"Why do you two always have to make bets? It's so stupid."

"It's all fun and games, Carls. Stop harshing our mellow."

"Harshing your mellow?"

"Yeah, this wasn't even all that bad, Sam's-bets-wise."

"But-"

"Chill, Carls. Freddie didn't even mind. Now let's talk about this concert."

"Fine..." she sat down huffily, but moved on. "So where is the concert? It must be pretty far away if we have to leave tomorrow morning to get there by Saturday night."

"San Francisco - my mom will take us, but yeah, we have to leave pretty early."

"Ugh, several long hours in a car with your crazy mom?" I complained. "I may not survive."

"That'll be perfect then," Freddie shot back.

Just then, the studio door opened and Spencer walked in. "Hey guys, nice show. Cubed fruit, anyone?" He indicated a bowl of cubed fruit. We declined.

"Hey Spence, you know that concert on Saturday?"

"Yeah..."

"We have to leave tomorrow, cause it's all the way in San Francisco."

"Okay. Hey, there's an art exhibition in Oakland on Sunday, and I was going send a couple sculptures there, but if we all go, I could take them myself. What do you think?"

"Sounds fun," Freddie piped up. "If you don't mind being around my mom and Sam's rotting corpse in the backseat."

"Oh, shut up, you little nub."

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**A/N: **This took me a long time...But there it is. Tell me what you think! Ch. 3 will have much more better Seddieness. Happy St. Patrick's Day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own anything.

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The clock read 10:13 in bright pink numbers. Carly and I were laying in her bed. Too excited to fall asleep so early, we chatted in whispers instead.

"What are we gonna wear?" Carly wondered.

I snickered. "Well, it is at Baker Beach, so..."

"Sam, you little... It's a concert, they make you wear clothes."

"I know, I know, just messin'. Hey, Freddie said it's a pretty small concert, hard to get into. I'm pretty sure he did business with Rip-off Rodney, like I did that one time."

"Seriously? That doesn't sound like him - I mean, Rip-off would run right over him! I can see it now: '_Hmm, your soul? A little light - I'm gonna have to ask for your firstborn, too.'" _

"Nah, Freddie could handle him. He's had plenty of experience with pushy and manipulative kids."

Carly giggled. "You've pretty much turned him to the Dark Side, I think, Sam."

"Oh, he likes the Dark Side, believe me." We laughed, then were silent for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. Mine were about pork chops.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly is the deal with you and Freddie?"

I wasn't expecting that. My mind jumped immediately to the one major incident in my life about which Carly knew nothing.

"What d'ya mean?" My heart was racing.

"I dunno, you guys have just been...not that it's a bad thing...but, I mean, it's like...it's almost like you're..." She fell silent.

"Not sure what you're getting at."

"I don't know."

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking..."

"Which is?"

"I dunno, you tell me."

"Sam."

"Carly."

Carly sighed heavily. "Whatever, let's go to sleep."

* * *

The clock read 11:49. I couldn't sleep. What Carly had said had started me thinking, and now my brain wouldn't shut up. _Was_ there something going on between me and the dork? Truth be told, things did feel a little different since we... _Go to sleep, Sam. Don't think about that._

But I couldn't sleep. I slipped out of Carly's bed and tiptoed downstairs. I made a detour by the fridge, then left the loft altogether, heading down the dimly lit hallway to the fire escape. I wasn't sure why I wanted to go there, but it seemed like the right place.

Maybe it was fate, because the fire escape was already occupied. I didn't turn around. I needed to talk to someone.

I knocked lightly on the open window. Freddie jumped, but smiled when he saw me.

"Hey, you're up late," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from long silence. He patted the window sill next to him.

"So are you." I closed the window behind me and sat down.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

"Excited for the concert?

"No... I mean, yes, I am, but that's not what was keeping me up."

"Carly snoring?"

"Louder than me, and that's saying something."

"Is she cute when she sleeps?" _Ugh, that again._

"Carly will never love you," I stated coldly. And I didn't really feel inclined to talk to him after that.

We sat in silence for a while. I had been in a pretty good mood about two seconds ago, but now I felt like punching something. _Thanks a lot, dorkwad._

"Sam?"

"What?" I growled.

"I was just kidding."

"About..."

"Carly. I'm over her. Seriously."

"Why would I care if you love Carly or not?" I spat bitterly. _Why would I care? I don't care. I definitely don't care._

Freddie didn't answer. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at the ground, looking glum and a little embarrassed. I immediately felt guilty. I couldn't think of a way to apologize, so I did the next best thing, and changed the subject.

"So what was keeping you awake?"

"Just...stuff on my mind." He didn't look up as he spoke.

"D'you want...would it help to get it off your chest?" I tried to be nice, I really did.

"I don't think you'd care."

"Freddie..."

"What?"

"I didn't mean..." I didn't want to apologize, but I had to. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to be so harsh... And I do care, just... you know, you hate me, right? It's not my business who you _don't_ hate." I tried to smile. It didn't work.

"I don't hate you, Sam," he muttered to the ground.

"You...don't?"

He finally looked up, straight into my eyes. I couldn't think, or speak, or look away. All I saw was his dark brown eyes; everything else, around me and in my mind, was a blur.

After a minute - or maybe an hour, I'm not sure - he finally broke his gaze. I looked out on the city, my mind a foggy mess, and a cold wind cut through me.

I shivered, thinking vaguely that maybe I should go inside. I felt a warm hand gently grab my arm and pull me. I followed without a thought as he wrapped his arms around me, leaning me onto his shoulder and the closed window, and covering me with something warm and soft...

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Eep. This took me a long time to post. Oh well. Enjoy. Please.

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It was midmorning now. We were all packed into Spencer's blue iCrushing truck, cruising down Highway 5. Spencer was driving, Mrs. Benson was fussing, I was wheedling, Freddie was making less-than-witty comebacks, and Carly, crammed in the middle of us, was rolling her eyes and trying to break up our bickering.

"Fredward, did you remember your nightlight?"

"I don't use a nightlight anymore, Sam!"

"Since when?"

"Since... a long time ago!"

"But what if a monster attacks, or a clown or something?"

"I do hate clowns. They freak me out."

"Me too. You're a clown."

"Shut up."

"Awww," I leaned over Carly to pinch his nose. "And see, look at your big red clown nose!"

"Get your hands off me, woman!"

"Oh, am I invading your dork bubble?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You didn't seem to have such a sensitive bubble last ni-"

He made a jerkish hiss, and then launched into, "You're so immature, Sam!" While giving me a subtle sort of _That never happened, remember? _look. Right.

"Could you guys just cut it out?" Carly whined.

"No..." "Not really."

Carly unbuckled herself and climbed over me, shoving me roughly into the middle seat. "If you guys want to pass the time by bickering, like always, be my guest, but I'm sick of being in the middle of it!" She turned huffily to stare out the window.

Fredward and I stared concernedly at her for a moment, then let her pout in peace.

_Heh, I'm back in the dork's personal space, _I thought bemusedly. As I sat slouchily in Carly's former seat, what happened this morning replayed in my mind:

_I woke up with a jolt, an unfamiliar beeping ringing in my ears. _What the heck...where am I?_ I heard a groan from above my head and my pillow shifted under me. It took me a few seconds to see the problem with that. I looked up to the source of the noise, and it was... _oh, Fredward, holy ham._ The night's events reshaped themselves in my mind. Though I now realized how I got there, our extremely close proximity still startled me a little._

_I sat up, but he didn't let go of me. He merely loosened his grip as he turned off the alarm on his watch behind my back. The obnoxious noise silenced, he looked down at me._

_"Hey, sleepy," He whispered with a grin, giving one of my blonde curls a gentle tug. "Mrrgh..." I groaned, and I leaned forward onto his chest again. Screw wrong messages or any other crap that might keep me upright. It was comfy here, and I was __not ready to get up._

_I felt him laugh and squeeze me closer, then he whispered apologetically, "Unless you feel like doing a lot of explaining, we should probably get up now."_

_"What time is it?" I mumbled, my face in his shoulder._

_"Five-thirty. We're leaving at six-thirty, remember?"_

_"Ugh, yeah." I willed myself to sit up, though my eyes didn't want to open and my limbs were heavy. Freddie still held me loosely around the waist. I took a deep breath. _Damn, I've been out here cuddling a dork all night, _I thought vaguely, looking at the light creeping up in the east._

_Freddie, meanwhile, tidied up the fire escape and opened the window. I climbed inside and he followed me down the hall to apartments 8C and 8D. Without a backward glance, I picked Carly's lock and let myself into her dark apartment._

_Struck by a random impulse, I turned around to look back through the peephole. Freddie was still there. He raised his hand as if to open the door of 8C, then lowered it again and slipped into his own house._

Carly was still asleep when I got back, thank goodness. I was in a sleepy fog all morning, though, while we ate breakfast, packed the truck, and dropped by my house so I could pack some clothes and inform my mother that I was leaving town. She wasn't home, so we left her a note.

"Spencer, stop at this rest area so the children can go to the bathroom," said Mrs. Benson imperiously, interrupting my train of thought.

"But we're only 20 minutes out of Seattle-"

"But what if someone has to go later, when it's not convenient?"

"It's all good," I offered. "There's an empty Peppy Cola can back here." I flatter myself I'm pretty good at bugging the crap out of Freddie's mom.

* * *

We'd been driving about two hours now, when suddenly I remembered something, "Carly!"

"What?"

"I forgot to pack my underwear!"

She stared at me for a minute (and I can only imagine the look on the dork's face) then raised her eyebrows and began to giggle.

"I'm serious!"

"Chill, Sam, we'll go shopping in San Francisco."

"I dunno how I forgot them, they were right next to-" I felt the blood drain from my face and my hands get clammy.

"What?"

"I forgot my fatcake stash!"

"Oh, the horror," said the smart-ass dork next to me.

"This is serious chiz! You know how I get when I don't have enough calories!"

"Indeed I do. But you're wrong. This is not serious chiz. Or any kind of chiz."

"I thought we just agreed that I-"

"I brought some fatcakes for you." He pulled a plastic grocery bag out from underneath his seat. It was full pink fatcake packages.

I gaped. Then I lunged. Once I was contendedly chewing on a pink preservative-flavored pastry, I wondered out-loud, "What's this for?"

"Um, eating, Sam. You put it in your mouth, then chew it up and swallow, kinda like what you're doing now."

"I mean why do you have it? Why did you bring them?"

"You know, in case I needed a bribe, or a peace offering or something. I figure this is as good a Sam-ergency as any."

I thought about it for a moment, then acting on impulse, I turned and gave him a quick nose-kiss, before digging back into the fatcake. I could feel eyes on me from my left, so I turned to face a wide-eyed Carly.

"Did you just...?" She whispered as quietly as possible.

"Strictly nasal." I assured her.

* * *

We sang karaoke and car-danced, we sat upside down in our seats, we had rapping contests, we ate tons of trail mix and doughnuts, we made faces at passing cars, we annoyed Mrs. Benson to the verge of tears with the mess we made, and at long last, Spencer stopped in Portland for gas.

"Go to that pump there, Spencer."

"You're not the boss of me!"

We climbed out and stretched our legs. Spencer, looking exasperated, sent us into the store with ten bucks each. Booyah.

Up at the cashier's table, treats in hand, the three of us waited in line behind a large, smelly man in dirty overalls. You know, the obligatory gas station hobo. Anyways, we were looking half-interestedly at the counter displays while we waited.

"There's nothing like a Mentos kiss," I read out loud off one display. "That's quite a claim."

"You're right," agreed Freddie. "Wanna help me test it, Carly?" He raised one eyebrow se-dork-tively. Carly slapped him across his infuriatingly cute baby face. _Good for you, Carls._

Freddie recovered fast, though. "Well, okay. Sam'll do it. Won't you, Sam?"

_What?!? _"Erm...uh...hell no, jerkface! I mean, well, unless there's something _really _good in it for me." Okay, maybe I was a _tiny _bit not totally puking at the idea.

"You'd be assisting the progress of Science! What more could you want?"

"Not good enough."

"I _bet_ you won't do it." (Carly groaned)

"Stakes?"

"Loser has to give the winner a foot massage?"

"Lame."

"Okay...how about loser has to hit on the first person they see at the next gas station?"

"Oh, you are so on!"

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**A/N: **So there. My longest yet, and my favorite, so far, I think. The thing I'm least happy with, though, is how cranky and unimportant Carly's been so far. But Sam totally has Freddie on the brain, so she's not thinking about Carly that much, and Carly's feeling ignored. But I promise there will be more about Carly soon. Please review!

~ August


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I take way too long to update this. But I thought it would be horrifically ironic if I failed English because I spent all my time writing fanfiction, so I've been doing my homework a little. Anyways, Chapter 5, y'awl:

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After the gas stop, we all piled back into Spencer's freshly fueled, freshly vacuumed, freshly sterilized truck, and it was time to face the music... or whatever. I never really got what that meant, but the point is, I no longer had an excuse to put off the bet.

"Mentos in -" We chewed the mints thoughtfully. We were supposed to be thinking about the best things in the world, to see if this could top them. But in reality, I was thinking more about how many witnesses were present, how much this bet, won or lost, could ruin my reputation, and whether _maybe _the dork...wanted me to win?

Too soon, the mints were eaten, and he was looking at me expectantly.

"Well," he said, making that stupid face again. "Lean."

This bet was so bizarre, seriously. Why had I agreed to this again? But I leaned. _I cannot believe I'm doing this..._ I was only an inch away from his mouth, my heart was beating way too fast...

Orange. Orange something sprayed in my face. He did _not. _

"Don't kill him, don't kill him, Sam..." Carly moaned from my left, shaking with laughter.

I wiped the cheese slowly off my cheek, opening my eyes.

"So that's how you want to play this game, Benson?"

He was wearing an evil smirk. The bet had just gotten a lot less pointless and a lot more fun.

Not looking away from him, my game face on, I distributed another round of Mentos. This time, I didn't wait for him to prompt me. I bent toward him suddenly, trying to make a surprise attack. But it wasn't surprising enough. Before I could make it all the way to his lips, something cold and wet was drenching my legs. It was a very good thing that Mrs. B was asleep right now.

The little nub had poured his iced tea in my lap.

I was mad now. Oh, boy, was I. I popped another mint and positively launched myself at him. Apparently he'd run out of food items to distract me with, because now he was just all out wrestling me. I struggled and kicked and punched, but he held me off - off his face, at least.

What he did next was arguably very cheap: he threw the remaining Mentos out the window. Without them, the kiss was meaningless.

I struggled even harder, trying to plant one on him before the minty taste wore off, but after fifteen minutes of fighting, I gave up. I mean, what else could I do? Wrestling is exhausting work! I was tired, my breath wasn't minty anymore, and I was getting nowhere, so I _finally _gave up. I slumped back in my seat so that I didn't have to look at Fredward's ugly self-satisfied face.

_I can't believe you, Puckett. Outwitted and outmuscled by...? Ugh, just kill me now._

I sat slumped in my seat in a state of deepest misery. I just stared out the front window, too depressed to say anything. It had started raining. How appropriate. Just in time to celebrate the occasion of Sam Puckett officially losing her touch.

We sat in silence for a while. Carly had now fallen asleep, too.

"Hey," Freddie whispered, poking me gently in the ribs. "You alright?"

I grunted in response, not looking at him.

"Listen...we don't have to finish this bet thing if you don't want, it's okay..." _Why does he have to be so nice?_

I looked up at him. He looked apologetic, guilty...what was wrong with this boy? He should have been gloating, teasing, rubbing it in my face, but the stupid dork had to go and be all sweet and I had no clue how to handle it. I groaned and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes.

"I'm serious, Sam, I don't mind-"

"I have to do it, Freddie, you know that," I didn't open my eyes. A Puckett never goes back on her word, especially when it comes to bets (and dares. Good times...). The point is, my _honor _wouldn't allow it.

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"Positive," I opened my eyes to look defiantly into his face, a fierce and random excitement suddenly springing up in me. "This is gonna be epic, Freddo."

"Okay, mood swings...whiplash."

"Twilight quotes...dorkface." But I was grinning now, and he seemed to feel better. "The real reason I want to carry out this bet is because I don't want to be in debt to a nerdboy like you."

"Actually, you owe my fifty-seven bucks since you bought that trampoline."

"Damn."

* * *

We stopped in Medford for gas. There it was, the fateful service station where I must perform my duty to uphold the family name, and hit on the first person I see. But when we walked through the door, Freddie armed with his little hi-def camera, there was no one to see. We looked around, and finally decided to just pick out our snacks and wait. We waited for a fricken century, I swear.

"Oh my gosh, doesn't anyone work here?" Carly whined. But just then, _he _walked through a back door.

_Hot damn..._Probably seventeen or eighteen, shirtless, tan, buff as hell. Yeah, he was re-he-heealy hot. And mine, all mine. I caught Carly's eye, and I could tell she was contemplating baking cookies on him, too. Freddie looked shocked and nauseous. Ha.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't hear you guys come in-" Oooh, he had a hot man-voice. "Have you been waiting a long time?"

"Actually-" started Fredward angrily, but Carly and I cut him off.

"Not long at all," Carly breathed.

"No, we're great!" I added, smiling flirtatiously.

"Okay, then, can I help you with anything?"

Carly elbowed me, presumably indicating that this was my moment to shine. I switched on the ol' feminine charm, then began, "Well, I was trying to decide-" I led him over to the drink coolers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my pals ducking behind a short aisle wall to video tape.

"- I'm not sure which energy drink to get. You know, Monster, Red Bull, Rock Star, I can't decide."

"You like energy drinks, eh? Interesting..." Oh, those eyes of his. "You should definitely get Red Bull."

"Oh yeah?"

"Totally. It gives you wings, you know."

"That's what I've heard." I batted my eyelashes.

"But you probably don't need them, being an angel and all." He smiled at me. _Eeep! _

I giggled in a very un-myself-like way. Though, seriously, I probably would have done that even if I wasn't playing games. This guy was just too sexy for words.

We chatted for, like, _ever. _And I barely remember a word of it. I was kinda a little preoccupied staring at his muscles. He had muscles on his muscles. Like, you could see the muscles in his jaw when he talked. Just thinking about it made me go all blonde and girly. Anyhow, I did find out that his name was David, his dad owned the gas station/repair shop, and he was going into the 11th grade.

But eventually we had to leave. I bought my treats last, lingering a little longer than was necessary, then I finally turned to go.

"Hey, Sam?"

I spun back around from the door.

"Uh, could you do me a favor? I lost my phone number, think I could have yours?"

Best bet I've ever lost, I swear.

Back in the car, me and Carly were drooling over the video. Apparently she'd taken over taping from a very disgruntled Fredward and had been circling us while we chatted, inconspicuously capturing every square inch of his glorious hotness.

"Oh my gosh, look at that!" I laughed. Freddie leaned across me to look at it, then slapped a hand to his eyes as though blinded. Carly had spent like a half minute just filming David's butt from different angles.

"Why are you guys watching that? I mean, you just saw the kid!"

"You're just jealous, Fredward."

"Jealous of what? I don't want to look at that guy's..." His voiced trailed off and became a sort of huffy sigh. He turned to face the window.

"Oh, man, I want to touch it!" Carly exclaimed. Freddie snapped right back to lean over me, looking horrified.

"Chill, dork, it's just his arm." I shoved him off me and went back to staring at the biceps and pecs and abs, and those crazy jaw muscles...

"How on earth does this happen?" Freddie whined. "Even when you lose, you always win."

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

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The thrill of the hot gas station guy wore off. The fun of the car ride wore off. Even the joy that is unlimited car snacks wore off. It was 7 PM and were were stuck in traffic going into San Francisco.

"Three thousand seven hundred forty-one..." counted Carly deliriously from my right, slouched in her seat and bouncing a rubber ball on the ceiling.

"Gosh, my butt is so tired!" I whined, massaging my temples. Since about a half-hour ago, I'd been brooding over the thought of being weaker than Freddie. _It was a fluke, _I told myself, _if we weren't in the car and all, I'd beat him. Yeah._ And now I head a headache.

"Three thousand seven hundred forty-two..."

"Spencer, I think this is our exit. Please execute a right lane change."

"Three thousand seven hundred forty-three..."

"First of all, no, this isn't our exit, and second of all, _what_?"

"Three thousand seven hundred forty-four..."

"Typical. Stuck in traffic and no signal." Freddie held his phone high over his head.

"Who are you trying to call, anyways?"

"I was just trying to get a traffic report to see how far this is backed up. It's really unusual to have the signal die on this network, I mean, it's got-"

"Whoops, don't care."

"Three thousand seven hundred forty-nine..."

Incredibly, we arrived at our hotel alive. It was a pretty nice hotel. Everything was decorated in this colorful, quirky retro style. It actually reminded me a lot of the the Groovy Smoothie. Carly, Spencer, and I had one room, and Freddie and his mom had one right next door. I wanted to crash right away, partly because Freddie'd been in a titchy mood all afternoon and I was sick of it, but Carly wanted to have a real dinner. She actually changed clothes first. Right.

We headed down to the lounge-ish restaurant and ordered some food, mainly an assortment of appetizers - wings, fried cheese, spinach dip - good stuff. The others had to sort of wolf it down to prevent me from eating it all. Good thing they all love me anyways. Well, not Mrs. Benson, but whatever. After the food was gone, we split. The more-or-less adults of the group went upstairs to bed. A bizarre thought crossed my mind, but I shoved it out again before it made me puke. I went over the arcade (they had an arcade!) and left Carly and Freddie in the lounge place.

The arcade was pretty awesome. I played some Pac-Rat (fun times), and just murdered this eleven-year-old at air hockey. I stole somebody's nachos and spilled them, and then I played one of those shooting games and kicked major butt.

"Woot! You owe me three more bucks, kid!"

"Fine," the little boy handed over the cash as I won again.

"Sam! You haven't been making bets with random children..." It was Carly.

"Oh, it was just a little one-"

"Give him back his money." I reluctantly passed it back.

"Why aren't you with Freddie, anyways?" I sipped on my drink carelessly.

"These girls came and were all over him, and I got annoyed."

I did a spit take.

"Show me." I demanded, as Carly wiped her face disgustedly.

* * *

There he was. And three pretty, tan, well-dressed girls were fawning over him. Crazies. I scooted over closer, hiding behind a short wall so I could hear their conversation.

"D'you know who they-" I started in a whisper, then realized that Carly was gone.

_Aha. _Cute boy at five o'clock. I went back to eavesdropping.

"So you come from Seattle, right?" asked a silky feminine voice which I hated instantly. "Does it rain a lot there? That's what I've heard."

I ventured a glance around the wall. These girls were all wearing flattering, somewhat revealing clothes, and they were made-up flawlessly. I suddenly became acutely aware of how I was still dressed in my dirty car sweats, my hair was a mess, and, I thought, I had a zit on my un-made-up nose. Thinking about it made my stomach sink about four inches inside me.

"Yeah," said Freddie. "It rains pretty often. How is it down in LA?"

"Hot."

"Sunny, a lot."

"Very hot."

"That's pretty cool. I mean hot."

The girls laughed obnoxiously. _Not that funny..._

"So, who were the girls you were with earlier?"

"Oh, uh, Carly - she's like my best friend. Pretty much like my sister, actually. She lives right across the hall from me."

"Cool, cool. How about the other one?"

"Sam-?"

I listened curiously.

"Oh, she's nobody. Just Carly's crazy friend."

A stabbing, icy pain pierced my chest. That's what it felt like, anyways, as I heard the responsive twitter of laughter. I fell on my butt, leaning back against the wall and looking at my hands. _Nobody. Just Carly's crazy friend. _My breath shuddered and my eyes burned. _Don't cry, please, don't cry, Sam, _I pleaded with myself, trying to compose myself. I stood up resolutely and circled back through the arcade to come into the lounge from the place I'd left it. Freddie had just stood up and was walking in my general direction, still surrounded by the girls.

I walked determinedly up to him. I looked him in the eye, then in one violent movement, stabbed my toe into his shin, then turned and rushed away. But I didn't get away fast enough to miss the ensuing, "What the _hell _was that for, Sam?"

"What a bitch."

"She _is _crazy."

I didn't stop until I was alone in the mirrored elevator, tears running freely down my face, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. _Just Carly's crazy friend. Nobody. Just Carly's crazy friend. _His offhand, careless voice echoed over and over in my head, each time stabbing me more painfully than the last.

I let myself into the Shay's darkened room, stumbling over our suitcases, now sobbing uncontrollably.

"Sam?" Spencer's concerned voice came from the closer of the two beds. "Are you okay?"

Ignoring him, I extracted my pajamas from the mess and locked myself in the bathroom. I ran a shower and sat shaking on the floor under the jet of hot water. _She's nobody. Just Carly's crazy friend. _Just Carly's stupid, ugly, abrasive, crazy, nobody of a friend.

I didn't cry when I broke my finger. I didn't cry when my favorite show was canceled. I didn't even really cry when I had to clean a urinal at Chili My Bowl (that was more of a howly, dry sob). But I was crying now, long and hard, and it felt wrong, but unstoppable. Why should I care? He was nobody to me either. _Who do you think you're kidding, Sam? _He wasn't anything to me. He was just..._your best friend. _Carly's my best friend. And, apparently, my only friend.

At last I got dressed and slipped out of the bathroom into the far side of the far bed. I was crying more quietly now. I ducked under the covers and lay still, trying to fall asleep.

"Sam?" Carly had come in quietly. "Sam are you in here?"

I didn't answer, but apparently she saw me, cause she walked over and sat on the bed next to me, putting her hand on my still shaking back.

"What happened? Freddie said you just walked up and kicked him, and then ran away."

"Is that what he said?" I asked hollowly, sniffling.

"Sam, are you crying? What did he do, Sam?" she asked knowingly, a hint of anger in her voice.

I told her what he had said in a whisper, my voice shaking. She didn't answer at first. I couldn't see her face, so it was anyone's guess what she was thinking.

"How could he...be so..." she stuttered, apparently at a loss for words. "How could he...Freddie? Why...would he..."

"He hates my guts, Carly."

"No - he can't..."

"He does. I'm so confused!"

"Why?"

"Carly..." I hesitated, then continued. "I didn't really sleep in your room last night."

I heard a sharp intake of breath, meaning that she'd gotten the wrong idea.

"No, it's not like that, don't worry. I was out on the fire escape with Freddie, and it was completely innocent, but he said last night, he said 'I don't hate you, Sam,' and then we...we kinda had this little moment, and then I fell asleep and, well, he held me, like, all night."

"Oh my gosh..."

"Yeah, and now...uh I don't know."

"You like him, don't you?"

"You know, I don't even know, Carly, but it doesn't matter. I just...I just thought we were kinda like...best friends." I shuddered as I stifled a sob. "How could he suddenly change his mind like that?"

"Oh, Sam," Carly wrapped her arms comfortingly around me. "Listen, what he said was terrible and mean, and I'm not trying to excuse it, but believe me, he doesn't mean it."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. Cause...listen. After your little thing last night, he was probably feeling pretty close to you, and then after the thing with David, I'm guessing that he was feeling kinda jealous and resentful. And I blame myself for make a big deal of that - no, listen -" she stroked my hair as I groaned disbelievingly into my pillow. "Listen, after that he was feeling kinda betrayed, and then when he was talking to those girls, he somehow felt like he was giving you what you deserved, and I'm guessing he was saying about you the same thing he felt that you were thinking about him, like he was the odd one out, and unimportant to you."

"Carly..."

"I'm serious. He doesn't honestly feel that way about you, I'm sure of it." I sighed. In truth I did feel a little better. It made sense, what she said. I could always count on Carly to make me feel better, and I didn't doubt her psychoanalyzing skills. The bed creaked as she shifted around, putting on her pajamas and crawling under the covers. She snuggled close to me and wrapped her arms back around me, whispering, "It'll be okay, Sam. Just, go to sleep and it'll all be okay in the morning."

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**A/N: **Finally some conflict. Kinda different from the previous chapters... Hope this isn't OOC and terrible. Please R&R!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

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I woke up the next morning alone in the room. Carly left a note saying that she and Spencer had gone to take his sculptures over to the college for the exhibit. Great. I stared out the window for a while, depressed and unmotivated to move. I wondered if Carly had spoken to Freddie this morning. She probably had - Carly wasn't the kind of person to up and leave with a major problem behind her. I'm guessing she chewed him out first, and then purposely left so we could work things out by ourselves. _Darn you, Carly, I don't want to talk to him alone, _I thought anxiously. I hadn't done anything to him. I decided not to look for him, just to stay right here until Carly came back. Strange as it was, I wasn't hungry. The leftover pain from last night just took over everything.

_How could he say that? _I found myself brooding. _That's not like him at all! Freddie's so nice and friendly. Could I really be that unbearable and embarrassing to him that I pushed him over the edge? If anyone can handle my antics, it's Freddie...that's what I thought anyways. _

Then the memory of those gorgeous, evil skunk bags began taunting me. And I couldn't really sit there anymore. Instead, I needed to...dress up. Strange, yeah - I never dressed up, never cared about how I looked - but I thought it would make me feel better. Maybe I could be good enough, pretty enough, whatever, that Freddie wouldn't mind acknowledging our friendship.

Realizing that I was still without fresh underwear, I decided to layer my clothes on top of my swimsuit. We'd probably go to the hotel pool or the beach or something today anyways. Plus, it gave me an excuse to wear things a little skimpier than I might usually. I pulled on a red tank top with little white polka dots and a pair of white short-shorts over my blue plaid bikini. _Ha, I look idiotic and patriotic. _But I wasn't going to revert back to my figure-hiding tomboy clothes. Not right now, at least. I knotted my hair into a pretty sort of messy bun, and dabbed on a little of Carly's makeup.

I felt a little, tiny, fraction of a bit better. I resumed the position of sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out the window. _Freddie isn't coming. Carly must not have chewed him out. Maybe he was just sitting up by the pool on the roof with those skunk bags. He doesn't care about me. He meant every word he said. _

_Knock, knock, knock! _Was it...? I didn't answer. I didn't know what to do, but I didn't want to stand up. The person knocked again. I didn't answer again. There was a little click, and the door opened. I didn't turn around. I huddled my knees close to my chest. Footsteps were coming closer to me. I buried my face in my knees. The bed groaned as someone sat down next to me. I didn't look up.

We sat in silence for a few moments, then he finally whispered, "Sam?"

"Mm?" I grunted into my knees.

"Meatball?" I looked up the tiniest bit so I could see him holding out a meatball snack-pack. I took it, but didn't open it. My rejection of food seemed to disturb Freddie more than anything else I was doing.

"Aw, Sam, I'm so sorry," he groaned. I felt his hand on my shoulder, but I didn't give any acknowledgment. "I didn't mean it, I swear. You're just as important to me as Carly, maybe ev..." his voice trailed off as I continued to ignore him. "Please believe me. I didn't think before I spoke, and yeah, I was kinda mad at you, but I crossed the line. I'd give anything to take it back. You're one of my best friends, Sam. I don't really feel that way."

He rubbed my shoulder lightly, waiting for me to respond. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he added in a whisper.

I'm not sure why I had the urge, but suddenly I shot my hand out and punched him in the ribs. Not too hard, though. He didn't flinch.

"Yeah," he said glumly. "I probably deserve about fifty more of those." But I wasn't mad at him anymore.

"Oh, shut up, sappy sauce." I turned to pull him into a hug, smiling broadly. With a sigh of relief he returned the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. I wondered if it would compromise my rep to forgive him so easily, but honestly, it wasn't worth it. And nobody was here that I seriously needed to preserve my image for (like Gibby or Reuben, for instance).

I felt him playing with a short curl that was hanging loose on my neck. He pulled away a little and pressed his lips lightly to my forehead, then said, "Hey, you want some free breakfast?"

* * *

We left the hotel and walked a short way along the steep sloping sidewalk. There weren't any breakfasty sort of places nearby, so we just went to a coffee shop.

"So...where's your mom, anyways?" I asked, my mouth full of bagel. We were all made up and everything, but our conversation was still a little awkward.

"She went with Spencer and Carly to the college."

"She left you by yourself?"

"I asked her to."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, then I asked what I'd really been wondering.

"Soo...you talked to Carly this morning?"

"Yeah." He stared down at his plate, fiddling with his fork.

"Mmm."

"She was...pretty mad. I deserved it though."

"And did she...tell you to..."

"She said that I needed to apologize and I already knew that, but I told her I didn't know what to say."

"So she...told you what to do?"

"Well, she told me to grow a pair. Then she left." He half-smiled as he glanced up at me.

"Wow. Feisty."

"I know... She was probably right, though. I'm such a wimp. I sat outside your door for over an hour after they all left before I had the nerve to go in."

"Well, I am scary sometimes."

"That you are."

"So...who are the girls?"

"Well," he looked at me nervously, watching my reaction. "They're in town for the concert, too. You can meet them if you want..."

"Sure, I'll meet them." _The evil skunk bags. _

"Just so you know, I'm not...I don't..."

"Chill, dork. But I have to say, they have a really lame sense of humor."

"How long were you eavesdropping?" He sounded a little amused now.

"Well, you know, me and my invisible ninja skills..."

He laughed and subtly scooted the other half of his bagel onto my plate. _Sweet little dork. I guess he does kinda owe me, though. _Lost in our own thoughts, we were silent for a few moments.

"Hey, you know what is awesome?" I said suddenly.

"What?"

"Batman."

"Okay..." He grinned, apparently entertained by my randomness.

"No, really! He's all super ninja and whatnot..."

"He's not a ninja!"

"Dude, he's totally a ninja."

"But ninjas are from Japan! And Batman trained in Tibet, at least according to the movie. What are we going off anyways?"

"The new movies, I guess. I'm too lazy to follow the comics. But anyways, yes, he is a ninja!"

"But ninjas are all assassins and evil, right? Batman is _not _like that."

"Freddork, all I know is that he learned ninjutsu, and that makes him a ninja."

"Okay, sure, but how do you know he did in fact learn ninjutsu?"

"Look, I know my martial arts _and_ my superhero movies."

"I don't think so..."

"Meh!"

"Bleh!"

"I bet you he _is_ a ninja. We'll watch the movie to make sure."

"Terms of the bet?"

"How about loser has to sing-"

"Aw, no singing bets, Sam! I just did that."

"Okay, loser has to drink-"

"No drinking bets, either."

"Okay, loser has to kiss-"

"Sam!"

"Loser has to kiss Sam? Well, I wouldn't have thought of it, but if-"

"That's not what I said! Why can't we just bet five bucks?"

"First of all, because that's no fun, Jenkface. And second, because I haven't got five bucks."

"Hey, these bets have been causing me nothing but trouble recently."

"They were supposed to."

"Hey!"

"Fine, we'll just bet the yewge, deal?"

"Deal." We shook on it.

"Okay, but I still have a bone to pick with you, dork."

"Another one?"

"I don't really think you can beat me at wrestling. I want a rematch, no seatbelts involved."

"Oh, right, like a rematch will turn out any different."

We continued bickering as we wandered back to the hotel. All was right with the world.

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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I know it's been a long time, but I've had a lot of trouble with this fic... To 'i_love seddie,_' the 'yewge' is just how I wrote their unspellable shortened form of 'the usual.' Their usual bet, mentioned in, um... iFence, I think, is that they have to put the spray nozzle of the kitchen sink down their pants and turn on the water. :-P If someone knows how to spell it for real, please let me know. I'm still a noob.

**Disclaimer: **Not only do I not own iCarly, I also don't own any of the movies, song lyrics, or anything else mentioned in this installment.

Oh, and I changed my name, by the way. I used to be 'augustrose7,' but now I'm 'Coffee Noodles.'

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When we got back to the hotel, Carly, Spencer, and Mrs. Benson were still gone, so Freddie and I figured we'd get on with our is-Batman-a-ninja bet. We didn't have the movie just laying around, but Spencer had a rather large collection of DVDs in a travel case, so we checked there. The problem was that the DVDs were organized by color - something Fredward failed to notice and I neglected to point out to him. It was just so much fun to seem him all frustrated. His annoyed-concentration face was just so darn cute.

"How are you supposed to find anything in here? It's not alphabetized, look: _Mission Impossible _is right next to _Eagle Eye, _so I thought maybe it's organized by genre, right? But the next one is _Scrooged! _This is impossible!"

"Think, Freddie," I said patronizingly, leaning backwards over the side of the bed to look at him upside-down. "Think really hard."

"You know where it is?"

"Did I say that?"

"Did you?"

"You're really slow."

"You're really annoying!"

"The DVDs _are _organized."

"No they aren't! I told you!"

"You said they weren't organized by title or genre."

"Then what are they organized by?"

I smiled, savoring his irritated frustration. Geez, he made this so much fun. "You're not very creative, dork-o."

Freddie tried a new tactic. "Oh, come on Sammy," he whined softly, twisting one of my curls around his finger, "just tell me the answer."

I swatted his hand away, scowling. "Oh, don't you pout at me. But if you must know, it's organized by disc color." Freddie's disconcerting puppy face had worked, in a way. It freaked me out a teeny bit, just enough that I gave up on my little game. I'd been punk'd.

"Ohh..." Freddie grinned in satisfaction, flipping to the brown disc section and locating Batman easily.

You know, being upside-down isn't as great as it's cracked up to be.

Freddie clambered up onto the bed. He slid one hand under my back and pulled me right-side-up, then loaded the DVD into his laptop as we settled back into the pillows. He skipped over the previews and started the movie.

_Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me? _His phone sang and vibrated in the pocket closer to me.

"Nice ringtone," I commented sarcastically.

"I didn't set it, she did -- Oh, hey Ashlyn, what's up?" His voice went all deep as he started talking to 'Ashlyn.' _Right. _"Yeah... that sounds good. I'll bring them. See you in a bit." He hung up and climbed off the bed.

"Hey," I started indignantly. "Aren't we gonna watch Batman?"

"Ashlyn and her friends want to meet us up at the pool!"

"Yeah, but..."

"I'm gonna go change - tell Carly what we're doing when she gets back." And he left, leaving me annoyed and a little disappointed.

Before long, I heard approaching voices in the hallway:

"Ew! keep that filthy animal away from me!"

"It's not a filthy animal, it's just a little kitty cat! Isn't that right, Mister Meowface? Who's a nice kitty?"

"It could have a hundred different diseases and infestations. I can't believe you'd even touch it."

The door clicked and swung open to reveal Mrs. Benson, wearing a face of deepest revulsion, Carly, looking harried and carrying various bags from Pet Paradise, and Spencer, holding a tiny black cat.

"You should take it to the vet. It could have fleas, ringworm, rabies," shrieked Mrs. B.

"Hey Sam," said Carly wearily. "Where's Freddie? You guys aren't still mad at each other, are you?" She looked concernedly at my downcast-ish expression.

"Nah...We're gonna go up to the pool. Wanna come?"

"Uh. Okay." She still looked a little worried._  
_

"So, the cat-"

"Spencer found it in front of the college. It didn't have any tags and it's just a baby, so he decided to keep it."

"And you went and bought all this...?" I indicated the bags of pet supplies.

"Yep. I just hope he can keep the cat alive longer than the goldfish."

I chuckled quietly. Spencer is such a goof. I'm kinda jealous of Carly; I wish I had an awesome big brother like him.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?" asked Carly suddenly.

"Oh..." I mumbled sheepishly. "I just... I wanted to look more...prettier."

"Prettier? Why- what did Freddie say to you?" _Funny she'd jump to that conclusion._

"Nothing, nothing," I assured her. "Is it okay if I wear them?"

"Yeah, totally, but are you sure he didn't say something mean, or-"

"No, Carls. I got dressed before he even came over. Now let's go up to the pool."

* * *

The roof pool was surprisingly empty for such a nice day. The clouds probably scared people away, but it was quite warm, apart from that. We sat down next to Freddie's, uh, _friends_. And as I expected, the three girls were looking flawless in skimpy bikinis and sunglasses. I self-consciously stripped off my over-clothes and began rubbing my arms with sunblock from a liter bottle that Freddie's mom had insisted he bring.

"Freddie, sunscreen my back!" whined Ashlyn, or as I prefer to call her, Skunk 1.

"Yeah, Freddie, mine too!"

_I just want to puke on all of you, _I grumbled to myself as he rubbed sunscreen on their backs. Carly and I helped each other, then went to tanning in the...clouds, hiding behind magazines and sunglasses. Carly looked awesome, of course. She always does, but I was a little uncomfortable in a bikini. I didn't look bad; I mean, I'm pretty thin and toned and whatnot, but compared to the Skunks and Carly...

At last Freddie finished rubbing down his groupies' skin and they settled into chairs of their own.

"Hey, Sam, did you get sunscreen on your back?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, Freddigo. Carly got it." I didn't look up from my magazine.

"Well, do you need more? I mean, you're so fair-skinned."

"I'm fine, Dorkotron. Mind your own business." I guess he was trying to be nice, but I was in a _bad _mood.

"So, Freddie," interrupted one of the girls. "Which one of us do you think looks best in a bathing suit, you know, of us five?"

_Gosh, this wasn't going to be good. _Freddie stuttered, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Well, I dunno...I couldn't really say," he mumbled.

"Oh, come on," said Skunk 2, otherwise known as Libby. "Just pick one, just for fun."

"Erm..."

"Yeah, just for fun, Freddie." Skunk 3 piped in. I'm not sure what her real name is.

"Well..." Freddie looked questioningly at Carly and me. Carly shrugged, and I didn't even give acknowledgment. I didn't want to think about it, but a small part of me wondered, maybe even hoped a little... _but no... but maybe..._

"I guess...I'd have to say Carly," he answered cautiously_. _I sighed silently. _Typical Freddie answer. _I put in my earphones, turned up the volume on my Pearpod, and closed my eyes. I didn't really care to see the other girls reactions.

After a little while, Freddie and his _ladies _went to play in the pool. I watched them carefully out of the corner of my eye, but refused to join them.

"Come on, Sam." Carly whined. "Let's go play."

"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

"I know you don't like them..."

"Do you like them?"

"Not really, but," she put on her joking voice, "don't you want to keep an eye on Freddie, or something?"

"Couldn't care less about Freddie," I mumbled, watching him squirt some water at Skunk 2 on the far side of the pool.

"Bull. You haven't turned a page in that magazine in fifteen minutes."

"Whatever, Carly..." I moodily buried my nose in the magazine.

"Come, on..." She practically dragged me out of my seat and over to the deep end, where Freddie and the Skunks were having a splashing war. When he saw me coming, Freddie started squirting water at me.

"Get in here, Puckett!" He scooped up a mouthful of water and spit it right in my face. How could I resist a blatant challenge like that?

"You're dead, Benson!" But I giggled in my mind.

I dove in, straight for my cocky little tech-producer. I grabbed his legs and dragged him under with me. We wrestled briefly under the water, but when you're laughing, your breath runs out fast. We bobbed back to the surface, wrapped around each other. I shivered a little.

"Cold?" He asked, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

"Uh, yeah." It was a lie. I wasn't cold. I was shivering because it felt so... good. Being all, you know, skin to skin..._Ugh that sounds so wrong. It's just cause I'm a hormonal teenager... it's not a big deal, nothing personal._

"Hey, Freddie, you're ignoring us," whined Skunk 2 annoyingly. Actually, her existence is pretty much an annoyance. He sent an unenthusiastic splash her way.

"Ooh, let's dunk Freddie!" Skunk 1 had paddled over, soon followed by her obnoxious posse. They started making a big deal of trying to push Freddie under, even as he had his hands on _my_ waist. _Gosh, I really hate this girl. _I tried to make it look like I was fighting him, too, but really, I was holding him up out of the water. It was vaguely satisfying to know that I was stronger than three LA girls put together.

They finally gave up and started hitting on Freddie with words and splashes and whatnot, rather than wrestling. It really made me want to puke. I swam back over to where Carly was wading peacefully in the shallow end and listened to her talk about... something. I wasn't really paying attention.

Now they were having a crazy dive contest. Fun idea, sure, but it was so aggravating the way that the skunk parade was posing in all these suggestive ways and showing off their diving skills... Freddie was all into it, of course. After a while, I gave Carly some excuse about being cold and left.

_They aren't looking... _I gathered my things back by the chairs. _Too easy, _I told myself. But it was also kind of irresistible. After making sure that they were all well distracted, I fished out the skunk bags' heavily padded helping-bras from their bags and tossed them over the wall into the street several stories below.

I wandered gloomily downstairs to our room. I needed an anti-depressant of some sort. Chocolate... or ham. Or both together.

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **I know I haven't updated in _ages. _This is due to an obscene amount of finals and studying and whatnot. Plus I wanted to get it just right. We'll see if that worked... Please review!

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I wandered around the stupid colorful hallways of the hotel, my mood fluctuating between anger and depression. It's these times when I start to engage in very mild self-injury. I banged into the walls for the fun of it. Painful, yes, but satisfying. I twisted my wrist the wrong way just cause, you know, it hurt. I braced myself courageously and tripped down the stairs on purpose. I know it's a destructive habit or whatever, but when I don't have any_body _to punch, I kinda beat up on myself. It's distracting, at least. I was sick of thinking about Freddie, and the Skunks, and my pathetic life, and ham, and Freddie.

I had conflicting emotions. The Voices in my head were debating like the British Parliament, complete with personal attacks. It was kinda like this:

Voice 1: _Go find them, Sam. Everything will work out, and it's better to confront them than just sit around pouting and banging into walls._

Voice 2: _Yeah, right. They're having tons of fun without you. They're glad you're gone._

Voice 1: _You're not a helpful influence, Voice 2. Sam should go play with her friends. They like her._

Voice 2: _Listen to me, Sam. If your friends do care about you, you can work this to your advantage. Manipulation, baby!_

Voice 1: _You shouldn't manipulate your friends! Or listen to lying snakes like Voice 2._

Voice 3: _Can I say something? I think-_

Voice 2: _No. Now skulk down here for a little longer until they all feel sorry for you._

Voice 3: _Wouldn't it be a better idea for Sam to just go wait in the room until they come back? Maybe eat some food? _

Voice 2: _Shut up, Three. You're a loser._

Voice 3: _Well you're a bigger one!_

You get the idea. I started to follow the advice of Voice 3. About the food anyway.

"Coke me." The soda girl person slid a third Peppy Cola in front of me. I sipped miserably. In addition to the self-injury, I also tend to drown my sorrows in lightly carbonated soft drinks. Don't judge.

"Dude, are you okay?" The soda chick watched me concernedly as I laid with one cheek stuck to the counter.

"Peachy." I grumbled sarcastically.

"Mmm." She went back to her soda duties, which apparently consisted mostly of texting and painting her fingernails. I saw her glance back up curiously. I guess the job of a soda jerk must be pretty boring if she wants to hear random hotel gossip from me. "So... what's the matter?" She asked casually.

"The matter is...that boys are stupid and can go to hell." I slammed my fist hard on the counter. The chick nodded solemnly as she blew on her freshly painted fingers.

"It's true, dude. That's why I switched to girls."

I raised my eyebrows a little. But after all, I myself was participating in substance abuse and self-harm, so... whatever.

After I'd finished five cokes and was pretty much guaranteed a soda hangover, I finally trudged upstairs to the Shays' room. It was raining now. I wondered vaguely if my pallypals were clever enough not stay on the roof of a hotel in a thunderstorm. _Gosh. Boys are stupid. Girls are bitchy. Best friends are unhelpful. I should have been born an alien. _

When I got to the seventh floor, I could hear raucous laughter coming from room 703. _Damn._ That meant he brought them back. I skulked in the hallway for a while, trying to hear what they were squawking about.

"AAAAaaaah! No fair! Cheeater! Freddie's a cheater!!"

"I am not!"

(mumbles to low to hear)

"HOW did you get so smart? Freddie, you know everything!"

So they were playing... a trivia game, I guess? Gah. Whatever. I was going in. I reached out to knock on the locked door, but as I raised my hand, the door opened and out waltzed the Skunks - looking...shall we say _deflated_? Ha. A little satisfaction.

"I looove you, Freddie!" Laughed Skunk 2.

_She did not._ I didn't care if she was joking. It was too much. Just too much. I couldn't resist. I slapped her across the face, then shoved the shocked-looking chicks out into the hallway.

The sight that greeted me inside the room added insult to injury. No, that's not the right phrase. How about this: it added dizziness to annoyance. Yeah. The lights were on, making everything extremely purple. Spencer's bed was strewn with cat supplies, the most impressive of which was an incredibly colorful three-story cat house that I can only assume he constructed himself. It had lots of moving parts. Carly was sitting in a chair, looking at me with wide eyes, which meant she'd probably seen what went down with the skunkbags just now. Freddie was sitting on the bed, cleaning up a huge mess of cards and game pieces and whatnot, looking oblivious. And something else, I dunno. Probably he was feeling very flirted-with or something.

"Hey Sammo!" It was Spencer. "Where have you been?"

"Uh... you know. Around," I said noncommittally. "Food." I added. It explains all. I could feel Carly and Freddie's eyes on me, but I focused intently on Spencer and his project. "Whatcha got there?"

"It's a cat house! But not just any cat house. It's the most awesome cat house in the history of-- AAAH!" I dunno what it is about things that come into contact with Spencer - they just catch fire. Carly and Freddie jumped to the rescue. We scrambled about for a minute, extinguishing the blazing cage thing. It wasn't too badly singed. In fact, we got the fire out so fast that the smoke alarms didn't even go off. It was enough time to lose the cat, though.

"Mister Meowface?" Spencer sprawled under the bed, looking him.

"Spencer! Look!" Carly pointed toward the door, where a little black pouf was escaping through the small opening in the slow-close door. Spencer chased after him. I could hear a distant "No! Slow down! Here kitty, kitty. Come out from under there..."

Carly watched bemusedly out the open door. "Uh...I'm gonna go help him..." The door clicked closed behind her.

_Cricket... Cricket..._

The presence of Fredward was hovering next to me. I sensed a disturbance in the Force. Well duh. He was trying to say something, but I was still pissed at his luverly friends, and by extension, him. No, I wasn't going to make this any easier for him, whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Uh..."

I didn't look at him.

"Sam?"

I didn't answer.

"So... where have you been all this time?" I inwardly scoffed at his pathetic attempt at nonchalance.

"Nowhere." I said quietly, dangerously.

"Fatcake?" He was holding a package of pink fatcakes in front of my face. I turned slowly to face him, giving him my well-practiced evil eye. (Well, honestly. It's not like I was overreacting, really. I mean... well he ignored me, flirted with three skunktastic hoes all day, ignored me, and failed to watch Batman. So yeah, I had fair motivation. Kind of.)

Anyway I took the fatcakes out of his hand, my eyes fixed on his face which was, I realized with satisfaction, looking terrified. I opened the package carefully, much more carefully than I would have done if I was actually hungry. I drew one pink cake out of the package. I looked at it, deciding what to do. No, actually I'd totally already made up my mind, but I was trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

I sneaked a glance at his face - he was looking a little more relaxed. Stupid move.

It was a cinematic moment. One minute he was looking vaguely at my hand, and the next his face was covered in pink frosting. I mooshed it around, just in case a square centimeter of his face was still showing flesh. I concluded by wiping my hands on his t-shirt and stomping off to the window seat, leaving him in a state of... well, who knows what the doof was thinking.

I stared glumly out the window, leaning my forehead against the glass. It had stopped raining. Hopefully it would dry up enough that the concert wouldn't be postponed. Lost in my own thoughts, I barely registered Freddie's movements behind me.

Okay, so maybe I was overreacting a little... Freddie's only technical crime was neglecting me, and since when was a I needy whiner requiring constant attention? From Freddie, of all people? And even if I did care about his attention, I had no business wearing my heart on my sleeve like this. _Pull yourself together, Sam, _I mentally rebuked myself. _You're better than this. _I resolved to cut the crap. This was stupid.

"Woah!" I jumped at a light touch on my shoulder.

"Sorry..." He recoiled in alarm.

"Whatever. Stop looking like a scared rabbit. I don't actually bite."

"Are you kidding? I've seen and felt you literally bite, not to mention all the ways we could say you've metaphorically bit people."

"_Mweh, 'metaphorically bit people', _what have I told you about dorkspeak?_" _I mocked, "Anyway, I'm not in either sort of bitey mood right now."

"Um, Exibit A." He held up a hand towel covered in pink frosting that he'd removed from his face.

"Whatever, doof. Cowboy up. You're such a weenie."

"Fair enough. Why don't you _girl up _and not shove food in my face when I try and talk to you!"

"_Girl up? _What's that s'posed to mean?"

He struggled with himself for a minute, then finally took a deep breath and continued with very forced calmness, "Forget it Sam. I didn't come over here to argue with you. I just wanted to..." he hesitated, looking at his knees.

_Let me guess. I'm rude and obnoxious and not classy like Carly is, and I shouldn't chuck people's bras off building tops._

"Spit it out, Benson." I put on my don't-care face and braced myself slightly for his usual feeble attacks on my character.

"I wanted to watch Batman with you."

"Whatever, jerkfa- what?" That didn't actually sound like a vicious-but-overused personal attack.

"Batman. I wanted to watch the movie with you. You know, for our bet?"

I blinked. "Oh," I said lamely. He was looking at me, all wide-eyed and remorseful, like a puppy who has just been yelled at. No, it didn't melt my heart. It didn't. I swear.

Okay, I lied.

I poked him gently in the ribs and, willing myself not to smile, said gruffly, "Okay, fine, let's go watch." A wide smile spread across his face. It disarmed me so much that I didn't even kill him when he grabbed my wrist and drew me away from the window.

I dug an unsquished fatcake out of the cooler while he set up his laptop, then jumped on the bed.

"I'm ready!"

"Laptops need time to start up, Sam."

"Why is that? Why aren't they just up and running whenever the power's on?"

"Well, for one thing-"

"Ha ha, that's funny. You thought I cared."

He looked at me indignantly, but I saw the smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. I smacked him on the forehead.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Could have had a V8." I smirked as he shook his head. I know my random acts of violence amuse him.

The movie was finally playing. I flipped off the lights and subtly scooted closer to him so that our shoulders were touching. He glanced at me and half-smiled. My stomach lurched awkwardly. I wondered... his hand was right next to mine... if I just moved my pinky an inch and a half to the right-

_Click. _We instinctively jumped apart as the door opened and two red-faced, frazzled Shays entered the room. Spencer was clutching the kitten in both hands.

"We... had to chase..." panted Carly. "him all around... the hotel. He... found the stairs!" She stared wildly at the little cat.

_No, you weren't interrupting anything at all. Thanks a lot, Carly, _I thought mutinously, but I tried to look pleased. I strode over to Spencer and petted the top of Mister Meowface's puffy little black head. He gazed up at me with huge, deceptively innocent blue eyes. I instantly liked this cat. I hoped that he wouldn't end up the same way as Swimmy and Brock and the other unfortunate pets that Spencer had owned.

Carly and Spencer began picking up the partly-singed cat supplies and locking the cat safely inside his house. I turned around to Freddie, who was still on the bed, staring blankly at his computer screen where Bruce Wayne was paused mid-sentence. He looked up at me, then glancing to make sure Carly and Spencer were still distracted, he whispered, "We'll watch tonight, I promise. I don't care how late it is."

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: ***braces self* I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I haven't updated in a month and a half and that is inexcusable, since I know how I'm going to finish this and can't even blame my tardiness on writer's block. I just... Okay, first of all I'm still completely into Seddie and everything, but I've had this weird disease where I don't want to write or read fanfiction, I just want to see how it all really happens. But I'm over that. Also, I've been a little preoccupied with my other ship. Anyhow. Here it is. I hope you like it. It took me a month and a half to write.

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"Let me get that for you, Sam." Freddie jumped ahead so that he could open the restaurant door for me.

"Um, thanks?" I looked at him perplexedly, hoping to get the message 'what-the-hell-are-you-up-to-Benson' across without words. But he didn't get it. I'm gonna have to work on my nonverbal communication skills.

Seriously, though, the kid had been acting strangely all afternoon, bizarrely polite to me, but never giving the slightest indication that it was some kind of joke designed for my humiliation. For the first two hours, I'd been convinced it was one. He'd actually complimented me on my concert outfittery, and I'd obviously taken that as sarcasm (I was wearing a band T, face paint and pigtails) but he never gave me his sarcastic little eyebrow waggle or anything. He then proceeded to open all the doors for me, offer me his jacket when I commented on it being chilly outside, insist on taking everything I was carrying himself, and compliment me at every turn.

"Would you like some pop, Sam?" He held out a tall cup of iced cola that he'd gotten while we were waiting in line.

"Um, thanks?" I took it hesitantly, looking him straight in the eyes, and, to my frustration, not understanding the look in them. I still wasn't totally convinced that this wasn't a prank.

We sat down at a table and pored over our menus, everyone glancing over the menu tops at everyone else. It was inexplicably tense.

"Freddie,"said Mrs. Benson imperiously, "I think you should have the salad with-"

"Mom, why didn't I leave you in Seattle, again?"

"Freddie!" she exclaimed in an injured tone.

"Kidding, kidding..." he shot her his cute little smile and she was instantly mollified. So that works on her, too. Interesting.

Spencer was being oddly quiet. I'm not sure what his problem was, but he kept glancing surreptitiously around the room. I mentally shrugged and didn't worry about it.

Carly was trying to catch my eye, and for some reason, I'm not sure what, I was avoiding hers. When she finally hissed my name, I had to look up.

"Let's go to the bathroom," she suggested. Great. I was in for an interrogation, I knew it. I left my order with Freddie so that he could tell the waiter, since he had decided to be so obliging this evening, then I hurried after Carly to the restrooms.

"What's the deal?" She demanded as soon as we were inside.

"What?"

"You and Freddie. You haven't bickered once since you got back from wherever you were that you won't tell me about. Freddie's being all _gentlemanly_. What's the deal?

"I dunno what you're-"

"Don't act stupid!" I jumped a little as she slammed her fist on the counter.

"Carly..."

"Just tell me-," her voice dropped dramatically. "Are you guys secretly dating now? Is that what it is?"

My jaw dropped, and I began stuttering in indignation.

"Well?"

"N-no! Why on earth...? Carly! I'm Sam. He's Freddie. We don't date. That's like, Rule Number Four of the Frienemy Code."

She didn't laugh. "You're acting weird, Sam. What's the problem, if it's not that?"

"I don't know, Carly! I was wondering what's up with Fredward myself. I can't believe you'd jump to the conclusion that we're..."

I broke off with a shudder. She surveyed me skeptically.

"Don't freak, Carls. Believe me, if this cold, cruel world every bestowed a boyfriend upon me, you'd be the second to know. Right after the dude."

She looked a little calmer, if still confused.

We returned to the table and spent the rest of the meal in the same sort of tense way: Freddie acted "polite", I squirmed because he was making me feel good in ways I didn't understand, Carly cast the pair of us looks that alternated between confusion and suspicion, Mrs. B did her crazy bid-ness - disinfecting spoons and such, and Spencer glanced nervously around the room without talking. On the whole, it was pretty uncomfortable.

* * *

A little while later, Spencer was dropping us off at the concert. He encouraged us not to talk to strangers and whispered some warning especially to Freddie, who looked outraged and embarrassed. Then he left us, and we joined the crowd down at the beach. A fenced-in area surrounded a temporary stage, and colorful, moving spotlights were swaying across the audience.

"Over here, guys." Carly dragged us over through the crowd to a spot close to the stage, and we were soon followed in by so many people that we were literally squashed together. We had a good view, though. The show opened with _Brakelights _and the three of us just had to simultaneously bellow, "Rrrraandom Dancing!" and do just that to the beat of the familiar tune. Our shenanigans won us a bit of space from the mildly alarmed bystanders.

It was around the third song that Carly spotted somebody she knew and ditched us.

"Little nutbar." I grumbled indignantly, and Freddie snickered at me. "You, too," I added.

"What did I do?" He demanded, smirking.

"Nothing, really. You were just there."

He elbowed me gently in the ribs.

Then a new song started playing: _Rock Me, Love Me_. The crowd began swaying and illuminating the darkness with cellphone lights. What is the deal with slow songs? They make...things...happen. And this wasn't an exception.

As I swayed with the crowd, I felt Freddie's arm bumping mine - a common occurrence since we stood like that all the time - but the funny thing was, his knuckles suddenly developed this weird magnetic attraction to mine and, well, weren't leaving. I didn't take my hand away, either. After a moment, I felt his hand move slightly, first his pointer finger creeping round my pinky, then his other fingers gradually sliding into place around my palm and tightening a little.

Yeah, I was holding hands with Freddie Benson. And strangely, it felt pretty good.

My hand was clammy and I was blushing up a storm, but I swayed with the music and with him and didn't let go. I ventured a glance at his face. He didn't look at me, but he must've seen me, cause he smiled ever-so-slightly and gave my hand a jittery little squeeze. My heart was racing and I tried with all my might not to think too hard about what it meant. I flicked off the 'Make Rational Decisions' button in my mind, cause my weird-o-meter was going berserk and...I didn't want to stop.

_Rock Me, Love Me _ended, and a loud wild song followed. The crowd around us began dancing wildly, forcing Freddie and me closer together. He turned to look at me, and he seemed like he wanted to say something - his eyebrows were nervously scrunched together. After of few minutes of him opening and closing his mouth indecisively, I decided to take over. In a daring rush, I grabbed his other hand and started bobbing energetically to the beat of the music.

Freddie grinned appreciatively and began dancing with me enthusiastically. As the song wore on, we bobbed closer and closer until there was virtually no space between our bodies. I could feel his breath on my cheek, we were that close.

_It's Freddie, Sam. Fredward Benson! Are you crazy? _I could almost feel the Voices in my head banging their fists against the inside of my skull in protest. Our heads were turning slowly, hesitantly. _Oh, dang, Sam, what are you doing? _I felt his lip brush over the corner of my mouth. My heart was beating wildly and my face was burning and...

"Ew, get a room, lovebirds!"

Freddie and I jumped apart as the infuriating, teasing voice of Skunk 1 _rudely_ interrupted us. She giggled stupidly and continued, "I had no idea that you guys were-"

"What, Sam and me?" Freddie was smiling in mock incredulity. Okay, a second ago I'd been thinking of knocking the crap out of the Skunk and carrying on, but apparently Freddie had something else in mind.

"Yeah...You were kinda chewing on her face."

"No...you must have seen wrong." He was still smiling vaguely and being inexcusably calm, I thought, for the situation. Personally, my head was still spinning from coming within freaking _millimeters_ of kissing my best friend.

"I don't think I d-"

"But that's ridiculous. I'd never kiss Sam." He was using that same calm, careless tone I'd heard when he said, 'She's nobody. Just Carly's crazy friend.' I looked at him in disbelieving disgust.

"What?" He demanded roughly in response to my expression. That was it. I turned around without answering and stalked away, shoving my way through the crowd till I came to the back, where it was more sparsely populated, and broke into a run.

I spotted a port-o-potty and darted inside, locking the door behind me before letting out a roar of frustration. "Boys. Are. So. STUPID!" I yelled, and I kicked the wall of the port-o-potty. It didn't leave a mark, and that made me even madder.I slid down to sit on the floor, my mind rambling furiously.

I wasn't like I wanted him to tell the girls that the _luuurved _me or anything. But, I mean, you don't do that. You just don't come this close to macking on someone and then act all chill and like nothing important was going on. He didn't even have the decency to look flustered or embarrassed, or give me some little reassurance - a nudge or a wink, or anything. But of course, he wouldn't want the Skunkbag to get the idea that he was was taken. He was just so... bipolar. But I already knew that.

I found myself staring listlessly at my knees, feeling incredibly stupid. What was I playing at, getting...attached to someone who hated me half the time? It wasn't like this was the first time he'd let me down. I should know better by now. I hung my head, defeated, but raised it again as I heard a knock on the door.

"Uh...just a minute," I called, hastily wiping my face on my sleeve and bringing a large amount of lime green face paint with it.

"Sam?" That was the voice of a Freddie.

"Go away."

"Come on, Sam. Open the door."

"Go away."

"Sam, please," he pleaded, "just...just open the door and let me talk to you."

I stood up, half reluctant, half kind of wanting to talk to him. Well, verbally abuse him, to be precise. I opened the door an inch and said, "If I let you talk, will you go away?"

I wasn't expecting it. He jammed his foot into the door and prized it open, shoved himself inside and locked the door behind him. Let me mention that I could barely move around by myself in this space, let alone function naturally with _another _person in here.

"Fredward?" I leaned up against the wall, staring at him in surprise.

"Sam, I just...what did- I'm sorry..." he thrashed. "What's the matter? I don't understand."

I raised my eyebrows. "You don't understand?" He shook his head with wide eyes that just made me want to_...argh! _Strangle_..._

"You...You're...so confusing, Benson!" That's it. I'd reached the end of the fuse.

"Let's just recap. You tease me about our kiss, then you're all pally and chummy and then 'Oh, is she cute when she sleeps?' but no, no, you don't love Carly anymore; you'd rather just cuddle with me all night but oh! Make sure no one knows about it! And then hell, we play in the car and fatcakes and whatnot, but when we get to the hotel I'm not your friend anymore. Oh, but in the morning, 'no, Sam, you're one of my best friends' blah blah blah PUKE! Then the skunkbags come along and you're like, 'get me summa that pretty stuff' and they're 'aw Freddie do my sunscreen' and you're All Over Them but then you're like, 'let's watch Batman, and oh I'm so nice' and 'let me take your jacket' and 'let me get that door for you' and then you're fricken' HOLDING MY HAND and we came so close to..., you knew it! And you were all into it and then BAM! Along comes the Skunk and it's all over, 'no I'd never kiss Sam that's so stupid.' I mean, who does that? And you know what, Freddie? Contrary to popular opinion, I actually have feelings, and you've been walking all over them this weekend and yeah, thanks for the tickets and I'm grateful, whatever, but this whole trip has caused more drama than it's worth! What is the deal, Freddie? I can't figure it out and I'm worn out and I don't know what the hell is going on, cause nothing is how it's supposed to be."

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself after that outburst. He looked at me sadly... once again like a yelled-at puppy. I turned away. He wasn't just getting away with it all just by pouting at me again.

"Sam..." he touched my arm and I yanked it away violently. He grasped my wrist, more forcefully this time. "Sam." He turned me around and, before I had time to react, time to think, his lips were pressed urgently against mine. I staggered feebly, my mind frozen and rational thought shut off.

After a long, blank moment, he drew back, anxiously scanning my face. I stumbled backwards, listening to my heart thumping in my chest, completely unable to process whatever it was I was thinking or feeling. I stared back at him, and I'm not sure what my face was looking like, but Freddie, at any rate, looked devastated.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled. "I just thought... making it worse, right? I'll... I'll go." He turned an left the port-o-potty without another word. I heard his slow footsteps crunching away in the sand outside.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to do.

"Freddie." I whimpered quietly, and a tear slid down my cheek.

* * *

Some way or another, I managed to stand up, leave the port-o-potty and carry myself back to the concert. It was almost over by the time I found Carly. She was sitting on a bench near the exit and looked almost as bad as I felt.

"You okay, Carls?" I sat down next to her, trying to put aside my issues for now.

"No. I feel icky." She clutched her stomach, staring at the ground.

"The concert's almost over. Spencer will be here soon." I rubbed her back gently, but she cringed at the touch. "What do you think the matter is?"

"I don't know. Maybe that fish I had for dinner. I always knew fish were evil."

I chuckled and stroked her hair, figuring that this couldn't possibly hurt her. "It'll be okay, Carly. I'm pretty sure there's nothing you could possibly have that Mrs. Benson doesn't have a cure for in that first aid kit of hers."

"You think she has a cure for evil fish?"

"She has a cure for everything. Well, except dorkiness."

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Lord Dorkiness himself approached from the direction of the water. He didn't catch my eye. He made a few inquiries about why Carly was doubled up in apparent misery, but didn't say much else. He sat down on Carly's other side and we all stayed there in uncomfortable silence until the last song was over and the crowd began pouring out of the exit.

"Let's go, Carls." Freddie and I supported each of her arms and picked her up to leave, but we had only gotten a few paces before she lurched and puked violently on the sand, dangerously close to our feet.

"Oh, gosh, Carly." We picked her up between us as she cried pitifully, trying to wipe her mouth. We carried her to Spencer's car, and as was to be expected, he freaked out and demanded to know what was wrong with his baby sister. Freddie and I told him what we knew, but we didn't say a word to each other.

The whole drive back, we didn't look at each other. Carly laid her head in my lap and her feet in Freddie's. Poor thing. She looked completely miserable as she lay there, shaking with tears and pain. The little selfish part of my brain prayed that whatever she had wasn't contagious.

When we got back to the hotel, Mrs. Benson declared that Carly had food poisoning - "So it was the evil fish, Carls." - and there wasn't much to do but wait till it stopped. She diagnosed plenty of water and as much rest as she could possibly get despite vomiting every thirty minutes. Mrs. Benson wanted to baby Carly and stay with her, but Spencer and I insisted that the two of us could handle it. Spencer and Carly went inside to set her up with some pillows in the bathroom, but before I could follow them in, Freddie grabbed my wrist and held me back.

"Sam -"

"Forget about it, Freddie." Time for some hatchet-burials. There were larger issues at hand.

"No, I don't want you to be mad at me -"

"I'm not mad at you. Don't worry about it."

"Do you still want to watch Batman with me?"

"Yeah... just not tonight, okay? I gotta take care of Carly."

He nodded dejectedly and we went our separate ways. It wasn't how I would have chosen to resolve the day's drama, but since we were at least speaking to each other again, I felt a tiny bit better.

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**A/N: **There you go. Sorry about the extremely long delay. It won't happen again. This has, I think, 2 or 3 chapters left to go. Review if you feel like it. I don't really deserve much love right now :-(.

- Noodles, the slacker.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **After much ado and rewritings, here is Chapter 11. iTwins was good, but looking back, it wasn't really necessary to put this on hold to see what happens in the ep. I thought it might drastically effect some stuff in this story, but not really. Enjoy, maybe.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, cause I'm a penniless teenager like that. Amanda, please.

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It all kept replaying over and over in my head: the feeling of his hand on mine, that look he gave me, the dancing and the almost-kiss that really could have been perfect, the real kiss that I all-but-rejected. _Why, Sam, why? You're stupid and tactless. You might as well be Freddie. _But the feeling of his hand... again and again I tried to recreate it, remind myself, curling the fingers of my left hand around my right just the way he did, and every time, my stomach squirmed at the memory in a strange but very nice sort of way. And then, every time, I mentally kicked myself for thinking like such a girl, then I remembered his cute little smile, which turned into the devastated frown he wore after he kissed me, and kicked myself again for being such an idiot. And then would vow to fix it all in the morning, and then I would kick myself for caring. _Get a grip, Puckett. What, are you, in the course of a single weekend, going to turn into a complete marshmallow? Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

"Sam? Anyone home?" Carly's pale hand waved in front of my face and I blinked sleepily.

"Um, yeah," I forced my mind away from those sometimes-pleasant, sometimes-mindkick-inducing thoughts. "Yeah, I'm awake."

"It's your turn. Truth or dare? Or are you tired of this game? We could try to sleep, cause I'm feeling a little bett- oh gosh." Carly lunged at the toilet for the fourth time that night. I held her hair back as she loudly and violently emptied the contents of her stomach which inexplicably remained there. "Ow," she whimpered, reemerging. I handed her some water and rubbed her back while she rinsed.

"Such a trouper. You'll feel better soon," I encouraged her, stifling a yawn. "When I had food poisoning, it only lasted for a few hours."

"Thanks," she replied croakily. "You didn't have to do this, you know. I know Spencer would have stayed up with me, and-"

"Nah, that's crazy talk. Mama has to take care of her Carly. Besides, puking aside, this is the only part of my day so far that hasn't been cruddy."

Carly, now back on the floor, frowned sympathetically. "You will tell me what happened, won't you?"

"Yeah, yeah... just not right now, okay? Let's play the game." She surveyed me suspiciously, but gave in.

"Okay, truth or dare?"

"Truth." As if either of us could come up with a halfway-decent dare that we could perform lying on the floor of the bathroom, not moving, making no noise, with no boys, cars, or fireworks involved.

"Okay, so... it's been, oh, six months, a little more since the 'never-been-kissed' drama and you've had a couple of guys since then... well, one. But - so here's the Truth - what's the count up to now?"

"Carly!" I whined. "Boy talk, really?" _Freddie talk? Really? Not that she knows that... not that I'll tell her that._

"Oh, come on, just answer it."

"Carly..."

"Chicken!"

"No..."

"Baak, baak!"

"You know, for a poisoned person, you're not very subdued."

"Just tell me, Sam. We're best friends." _Could it hurt? _I knew where this was going, but maybe I did need it to go there after all. Carly gave good advice pretty much always. "You have been kissed, haven't you?"

I sighed, defeated. "Yeah. I've been kissed."

Carly wriggled in a very girly way and started squealing, "Oh my gosh! Who? When? Where? How many? How long? Was it good?..."

"Settle down, Carls." I patted her head in mock condescension. "I've been kissed twice. Officially."

"Officially?"

"Well, there's also one almost-kiss and that one time when Freddie thought I kissed him, but it was really my sister."

"Okay, well those don't count. Tell me about the real ones!"

"Um, dude, I think it's your turn."

"Oh! Fine..."

"Truth or dare."

"Truth. I can't move, or I'll puke."

"You've got to be used to it by now."

"It's still unpleasant! Now truth, truth."

"So." I thought about it for a minute. I really needed to change the subject. Subtly. I needed something that Carly wouldn't mind spouting off about for a good long time until she forgot about my kissing status and/or fell asleep. "I've got it. Did you ever have one of those kindergarten crushes, back before we even knew each other?"

"Hmm..." She pondered the question, staring dreamily at the ceiling.

"If you say it was Freddie, I _will _hit you." I added with a grin.

"Don't worry, it wasn't Freddie. No. But there was this one boy named Brian that I liked when I was, like, four. I always picked him in duck-duck-goose and I'd kick out Ben or Missy so I could sit next to him. I freaked him out pretty bad. Good times." She sighed reminiscently. "But when I'd start that, Ben would always interfere and be like, 'Stop being so annoying, 'Lil Shay!' That's what he called me. Ben was a cutie. He was my first kiss you know."

"That's what you said. Something about potato salad." _Dangit, now I'm hungry for potato salad. _

"Well, it was much more tragically romantic than that. But I couldn't tell the whole tale in front of Freddie. Want to hear it?"

"Yes, tell me!"

"Well, it was the summer after the third grade. You and I knew each other, obviously, but I still kinda considered Ben my best friend. Anyway, his dad, Colonel Hoobsher, got transferred, so they had a big going-away picnic. It was fun - Missy was there visiting and there was this really good potato salad-"

_Again with the potato salad. Down, stomach. Relax, boy. No food till sunrise, so we'll have to suffer through._

"- But by the end, I was so upset that Ben was leaving that I started crying. Well, he found me and he took me a little ways away from the party to a big kumquat tree. He carved our initials in the tree and then he said, 'We'll see each other again, I promise. I don't know when, but we will.' And I asked him how he could be sure, and he said, 'Because I love you, Lil' Shay,' and then he kissed me, right then and there. But the party got over, and he left, and I haven't seen or heard from him since."

She sighed sadly and closed here eyes.

"You will," I blurted out suddenly.

"What?"

"You'll see him again, I know it."

"How do you know?"

"Well, he promised, didn't he? He said he loved you and he kissed you, didn't he?" I didn't know what was coming over me. I felt indignantly resolved, and maybe it wasn't entirely about Carly and Ben Hoobsher.

"You know, Sam, for someone who's such a good liar, you have an overly developed sense of honor. Sometimes people just say things they don't mean. It's been six years since then."

"He meant it, I can tell. You just don't throw around 'I love you.' Just watch and see."

"Well, okay..." she looked skeptical, but continued, "Now I've told you my first kiss story, are you gonna tell me yours?"

I'd been worried about that. "Well, we... I'm not supposed to tell..."

"Why?"

"I... I'm not supposed to tell you that, either."

"Well, that clears that up. I'm kinda feeling better. Maybe we can sleep now." She shifted into a sleeping position and began adjusting her blankets.

"No, Carly, wait."

"What?"

"I want to tell you. I need to get it off my chest, if you'll swear it goes no further."

"Sure, I swear. Go ahead." She turned on her side to face me, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Okay." _Here it goes. _"Well it wasn't too longer after the thing where I told the Internet I'd never been kissed..." I glanced at her face. She wasn't blinking. "Actually, it was only a few - " I paused, bracing myself. This was it. "- only a few _minutes _afterwards."

"Oh my gosh..."

"I went to apologize-"

"When you went to apologize..."

"He was already kind of not mad at me anymore, since he watched my little announcement, but I apologized anyway. Not just for that, for everything. He said that he didn't want me to stop picking on him-"

"Aww..."

"- and then the conversation came back round to first kisses. We wanted to get it over with, we were both right there, two birds with one stone, yada yada, I made him think it was all his idea-"

Carly giggled enthusiastically.

"-and then we kissed. And-"

"How long?"

"What, the kiss?"

"Yeah, was it like-" she mimed a few kissing movements in various lengths and intensities.

"Um, it was, I dunno, five, ten seconds? Ten or so? I dunno, I wasn't counting. Kinda like the second one I guess." I pointed vaguely at her face. "Not stone-still, but no, like, tongue or anything."

Carly squirmed in, um, satisfaction, I guess?

"We agreed that it was nice..."

"It was nice?" She giggled again.

"Yeah, nice." _Biggest understatement of the century then, and it still is now._ "And he said, 'I hate you.' With pretty much the least hateful look he's ever given me."

"Aw!"

"And I said 'I hate you, too.' Cause that was the agreement. Nothing was supposed to change."

"Oh..."

"It's not as good a story as yours, but there you have it. Freddie Benson is the first and only boy I've kissed."

"No, it's a good story! Much less depressing than mine. But only? You said you'd been kissed twice. You kissed Freddie _more?_"

_Mrrg. _The rabid cat that had been bugging me for the last three hours was out of the bag. Since I was already spilling, why not a bit more? So I told her. I told her everything, and she listened with rapt attention, smiling and frowning at all the right times and puking halfway through, but that was okay.

Sometime around 2:30 AM, I finished. Now that it was all out in the open, I had a strange combination of relief and renewed anxiety. I'm still not entirely sure that's possible, but there it is. I guess they took it in turns.

"Wow, drama," commented Carly, her voice a little muffled from being pressed into her pillow. We were definitely both exhausted by now.

"No chiz! We're the iCarlies. We don't _do _drama, right?"

"Yeah. But I don't think there needs to be any more of it, if you play this right."

"You're plotting?"

"No! I'm strategizing."

"So, okay, plotting. What's our plot?"

"Come on, Sam. It's not like that. You don't need to manipulate Freddie. He likes you already. That much is beyond obvious."

"Well, I did kinda have to figure..."

"He was honestly trying earlier, you know that. He just... he's a teenage boy. He made all these blunders and tried to fix them, but just ended up making you all confused. He was trying..."

"Okay, but why would he drop me again at the concert, right when he practically had me?"

"Well, look at it from his perspective. This girl he kinda knows has just _caught _him snogging his 'enemy.' His trained instinct tells him to deny any affection for you. It's like when he gave up his cruise to get rid of Missy, but he didn't want to admit he cared about you, even to me, and-"

"Wait, what? _Freddie _gave Missy the cruise? He like, won it, then gave it to her?" I swear, my heart lifted all the way into my throat and now my chest was full of cotton candy. _No way. _I had always known that he was sort of awesome, even if I wouldn't admit it, but this proved it.

"Ha, yeah. That was him."

"He told me he wanted to win that cruise so bad!"

"Apparently, he wanted to win _you _more."

"Aw, geez. He's so sweet. Wait. Don't you dare tell him I said that!"

"Yeah, yeah, but see? He's just used to denying he's even friends with you, let alone that he just got through mackin' on you."

"Almost."

"Almost. When he talked to _you _about Missy, his first reaction was to not believe you, remember? I mean, he always gives everyone the benefit of the doubt to an irrational degree - except for you, of course. But the point is, old habits die hard, and it's kind of a big deal admitting that he's in love with _Sam Puckett, _of all people."

"In love?"

"Well, I don't know... Crushing on you, at least. I couldn't speak for his love. But you see my point?"

"Yeah, I guess it's... not really a big deal."

"Girls are always ahead of boys in this stuff, but he'll catch up soon enough. You guys' relationship has come so far, so fast - acquaintance to enemy to friend to best friend to crush in what, two years? - you were bound to have some growing pains. Just... just start fresh tomorrow and talk to him, and it'll all work out. You guys are like, perfect for each other." She paused for a moment, then added, "Wait, you _do _like him, don't you? I just kinda assumed..."

"Carls, I may have gotten third place in the Washington State Lying Competition, but even _I _couldn't convince myself that I don't like him after everything that happened today." It was true. The boy had caught me and reeled me in. Biting and thrashing like a barracuda, maybe, but Freddie was tough. Actually, it was rather pathetic the way I just... gave up. At least tomorrow I could prove I could still wrestle him to the ground... and the other things that might entail sounded pretty good too, come to think of it.

My little daydream was interrupted by Carly. "Yeah, I figured you liked him. You're kind of obvious sometimes." She poked me playfully in the arm.

"What?"

"Oh, please. Do you think I don't see you making eyes at him all over the place, and... Sam! Foul!" I smacked her with my pillow a couple of times, both of us giggling. "Okay," she continued after we'd settled down. "I have to know. When did you start liking him?"

"Sometime after I was in that terrible accident that permanently damaged my brain."

"Come on."

"Okay... It was actually when he came back from vacation at his grandparents house, you know? And he had his smokin' hot new man-voice."

She snickered. "I thought you were in denial until today?"

"Well, you know, At first I was all, 'Day-um, Fredward!' But I whipped my mind back into line pretty quick."

"You goof, Sam." She bumped me with her elbow, then yawned loudly. "Hmm, what time is it?"

"Like three o'clock."

"We should sleep."

"Yes. Yes we should." I adjusted my pillow and snuggled under the blankets. I closed my eyes and smiled a little, determined to fix everything in the morning. I had this bubbly, excited feeling in my chest that really made it impossible to be worried. _You idiot, Puckett.__ I think you might be in love._

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	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **I'm fully aware that no one who read this story when I first wrote it is even active in the fandom anymore. It's just the story got old and irrelevant, I got bored and intimidated, and I stopped writing it. But I want to finish it after all. JSYK, this story is set between Season 2 and Season 3 and disregards everything after iTwins. This is the next to last chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly or any other names, brands, lyrics, etc. in this story.

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**Chapter 12:**

Have I ever mentioned how jealous I am of Carly? She has the most awesome brother in the world, and I'm just stuck with a prattish twin who always shows me up and flirts with my guy friends. In any case, sometime during the early morning, Spencer relocated Carly and me. I woke up in my bed, the sun sneaking through the crack between the panels of the heavy curtains. My head was aching like... well, it hurt, and my face was itchy. Spencer had taken a stab at wiping the face paint off me, but he's a boy. You know how that goes.

I laid in bed for a while, staring into the sun. Mornings are nice. I know I usually make a big deal about sleeping in and not being a morning person, but there's something about mornings. They have potential. At night you have all these ideas and resolutions, but in the morning you can make it happen. Also, you can wax eloquent about something or other, sound like a cheesy motivational poster, then remember that you're Sam Puckett and that Pucketts prefer Nike to Hallmark. In case it isn't obvious, "Just do it." Eh, eh? I shook the metaphorical (or whatever) water out of my ears and sat up.

Carly was still asleep in Spencer's bed, and the man himself was nowhere to be seen. There was a post-it note on the fridge. Obviously, I got up to read it.

"Carly and Sam,

I went to the art exhibition. Mrs. Benson is next door if you need anything. Breakfast is in the microwave, and please don't open the cat cage.

Spencer

PS: Sam, Freddie says 'Offerings at High Noon.' I have no idea? Is that code?"

I smiled to myself. To quote a song from a band that I don't ever _ever _listen to, ever, "I had a feelin'... that today's gonna be a good..." You get the idea. The microwave had some breakfast burritos in it. Since Carly was sick and would most likely wake up extremely hungry, I didn't even steal hers. The clock on the nuker said 10:14, and my reflection in its window, holy burgers. I was in no state to melt any nerds' stony hearts. Though, I thought to myself, I actually looked sorta like death by rock or something. It could have been sorta cool in its own way, but yeah - no.

The shower was ah-mazing. I hoped I wouldn't wake up Carly, but I couldn't help but serenade the shower head with a few rousing choruses of Hannah Montana songs. (I didn't wake her up, so my reputation wasn't irreparably damaged. I was just in a good mood, okay?) I changed into my actual pajamas because they were soft, comfortable, and pretty darn cute according to Carly. And they were just some shorts and a T-shirt. Totally appropriate for any occasion. I did nothing to my hair, but I put on a tiny bit of makeup to make me look less dead by rock and more sleepy princess. When I got finished, it was 11:17. Close enough. I left the note on the TV (Carly, unlike me, would check the TV before the mini-fridge), and left the room quietly.

Mrs. B answered the door of the their room, judged me for my clothes and disheveledness - she's not hard to read, people - and informed me that Freddie was out getting food. Good thing for him to be doing. I took the elevator downstairs to wait up for him.

Okay, keeping in mind that my pajamas are totally decent, I still got a few funny looks in the lobby of the hotel. Mostly the girls looked disgusted, the adults got that "back when I was a boy" look in their eyes, and the boys (and the soda jerk) were, well, more or less checking me out. Whatevs. This was a hotel, not church, and as adorable as I looked, I was way more decent than the Skunk Bags.

I took a seat on a big squashy chair next to the window to wait for Freddison.

"Hey blondie." Hmm. Strange. There was some college-aged monkey talking to me.

"Can I help you?" I asked slowly, narrowing my eyes for that hint of danger.

"'Sup with the P.J.'s? Boyfriend kick you out?"

"Totally," I responded, straight-faced. "Apparently some boys get mad when you try to cut off their chicken tenders with a plastic picnic knife. Sort of an extreme reaction if you ask me."

"Whu? Um... right, I'll see you..." And he escaped, looking pretty disturbed. I love that. Disturbing people is one of my more rewarding hobbies. There's no risk involved, see? Usually I go for the permanent psychological damage, but just freaking them out a little is almost as fun! It's easy, too: for the simplest attack, I just let them approach me, thinking I'm this sweet-smelling daffodil, and then bam. Hit them with the exploding ball of nightmare.

"Sam?" I just about jumped out of my bad attitude. There was Benson, carrying groceries from the Mall-Mart or whatever.

"Hey, Freddie." I smiled crookedly. How had I not seen him come in?

"You realize normal people get dressed before they leave their room, right?" he teased.

"What are you talking about? I'm wearing clothes. No one but you could possibly know that this isn't what I wear every day."

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Help me take this stuff upstairs."

"And why would I do that?"

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Picnics are nice. Most food occasions are nice, but a lot of times you get to eat cold meats at picnics, moreso than like, burrito dinners. Freddie sorta went all-out. We were up on the roof; the pool was closed for weather danger - the weather was really nice, so there was danger of there actually being people there.

I had asked Freddie if we should invite Carly. He stuttered awkwardly about something or other until, by my suggestion, we figured that Carly probably still had an upset stomach, and it would be very insensitive of us to bring up the subject of salty picnic food to her in her condition.

So we were up on the roof all by ourselves, eating salami and potato chips and celery sticks with peanut butter and little weeny pickles and little weeny sausages and drinking Wahoo Punch. It wasn't exactly romantic, but the situation definitely had potential. I didn't ask him why he did it or anything, cause there was also a lot of potential for awkwardness. Instead, we just ate picnic food and occasionally threw things at people on the street below and generally enjoyed each others' company.

"You know what sucks?" I said through a mouthful of sausage.

"Enlighten me."

"Bones."

"Bones?" He smirked bemusedly.

"Bones."

"Sam, without bones, you'd be an empty sack lying on the ground, incapable of motion."

"Yeah, but what I mean is, why do like, fish and meat and stuff have to have bones in them? It would be so much easier if it was all pure flesh."

"Yeah, but if they didn't have bones, how would you hold your chicken wings?"

"Fair point. Your logic is improving, Fredhopper."

We stared at the sky for a little while.

"We haven't done an iCarly in so long," I remarked. "What should we say about our trip on our next one?"

"Cuttlefish was awesome as usual and Carly got food poisoning and puked on our shoes."

"We could spice it up a little with some dangerous adventures."

"I don't think that would actually help the story."

"What are you talking about? Every story is better if it ends with someone running from the cops!"

"Says a Puckett."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning that some people have a higher approval of petty crime than others." He swatted my hand away from his drink (mine was empty).

"Pshh. Petty? I'm talking bank robbery, grand theft auto, cat shaving. Cool stuff. Not like, dork violations."

"We could always go shave Mr. Meowface if you really want to."

"No! Fredward, dense one, you shave the cats of people you _don't _like and who you _aren't _depending on for a full day's ride back to Seattle."

"Hey, I'm just trying to give you your idea of a good time here."

"That's what she said."

Being a teenager is way fun. I'll miss it in ten years.

It got quiet and after a while, a little awkward. My Voices debated whether I wanted to mention the rest of the weekend, and I did, and I didn't. I mean, it was much nicer just having lighthearted conversations, but I would still feel better once everything was worked out, right? I wasn't sure if I was being cautious, or just chicken. Eventually, however, I spoke up.

"I guess... I'm sorry," I said, more to my cookie than to Freddie.

"For what?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

"For, you know, being a drama queen this weekend. And stuff." I hung my head, looking at him even less, if that was possible, and fiddling awkwardly with my fingernails.

"You were fine," he said quietly. "I was a jerk. And stuff."

"Can we just, like, forget about it? Go back to normal?"

"I guess. If you want." He sounded disappointed. Why in the heck would he be disappointed?

"What? You would rather me scream at you and you be all bipolar and we have to walk on scrambled eggs around each other?"

Freddie chuckled. "The expression is 'walk on eggshells.' And no, that's not what I mean."

We went all quiet again. Freddie nudged the last cookie toward me. I was about to be worried that the picnic was over, but Fredward actually had a large bag of red licorice sticks, which made me pretty happy. I broke the cookie and gave him half. I wasn't really all that hungry anymore, which was crazy, by the way, but Freddie brought lots of food. And a full stomach makes me extra generous.

"Sam," said Freddie. I looked him in the face this time. That was his exasperated voice.

"What?"

"...Nothing."

Silence. Five licorice sticks. Silence.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Freddie?" I gave him that face, the teasing/patronizing one.

"You know..." he cleared his throat. He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "I really like you."

Well, that was not what I was expecting.

My eyes hit the ground, my face reddened, and my stomach was shaking involuntarily, which sounds weird, but you'll know what I mean when a cute boy does that to you. Everything got sort of blurry. _Freddie _likes_ me. _Freddie_ likes me. Freddie likes _me_. He said so. He said he likes me. _Nobody had ever actually said that to me before. 'Will you go out with me?', sure, but no one had ever just outright said that he liked me. Me! Not 'people like you' or 'a girl who can break bones' or 'my kind of chick'. Me, Sam Puckett. I couldn't believe it. I didn't for a moment doubt that it was true, what he said, but I couldn't believe it! This made me a little happier than food did.

"I know you don't feel that way, right?" His face was sad. It was the face made me want to punch whoever was making him sad. "But I mean, now it's out there, and you don't have to be confused anymore. And... and all the weird stuff, that's pretty much what it comes down to."

"Wait, dude," I stopped him. "Why would you think I don't feel that way?"

"Um, well, you, you know, rejected me last night..." But I knew he wasn't sad anymore, I could tell. He understood.

"Last night was a special case."

"Meaning?"

"I was upset, and um, I think I had a right to be upset for that matter. Wait, nevermind."

"What?"

I chuckled to myself. "I do so many insane things to you, I really never have the right to be upset."

"Well, maybe I like it."

"Well, maybe you're a freak!"

"Well, maybe you like freaks."

"Well, maybe your mom!"

"Your dog."

"Your dog's mom's fa..."

The conversation pretty much ended there. Our mouths were busy elsewhere.

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**A/N: **One chapter left after this. Please review if you liked the story or have a comment about it.


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